


Dropout

by MurielleLibrary



Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons)
Genre: Barbara is allowed some cry time, F/M, Let this woman rest, crying over one thing when it is really something else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:56:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25773208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MurielleLibrary/pseuds/MurielleLibrary
Summary: Barbara and Walter come home after Jim and the trolls leave Arcadia. Barbara has a bit of a breakdown.This fic is a bit old, probably started not long after Season 3 aired.... but I am trying to finally post all of my stuff... slowly....
Relationships: Barbara Lake/Walter Strickler | Stricklander
Comments: 7
Kudos: 47





	Dropout

Doctor Barbara Lake pulled into her garage, turned off the engine and closed the garage door. The keys jingled as she opened the trunk of the car. The lanky, green form of Stricklander unfolded from the uncomfortable knot of limbs he had twisted himself into to fit safely inside. He stepped down, and groaned as he loudly cracked his back.

“Oof. That sounded bad.” she winced, going back to the passenger’s seat and hefting out the blanket-wrapped Cradlestone.

“Not at all.” Stricklander said, stepping over to take it off her hands. “Far more precious cargo than me needed the cushioning.”

“I don't entirely understand what that thing is or what exactly we're supposed to do with it, but if it really is full of babies…” She smiled, opening the door to the house and holding it open for him. “I can't really argue.”

Barbara went through most of the first floor ahead of him, pulling the blackout curtains closed and turning on a few lights. She had bought them the day Jim had come home as a troll… on Walt's recommendation. He had given numerous little suggestions like that to help Jim… and Barbara… with the change. Subtle differences that only a changeling, personally knowledgeable in both troll and human needs, might notice.

Stricklander gently placed the Cradlestone on the table, tucking the blanket around it to keep the stone upright. There was an ethereal tinkle of sound, like the laughter of myriad children, and a soft glow from deep within.

“I think they like you.” Barbara smiled, looking over his shoulder and giving his arm a playful pat. “Looks like you're going to be a parent really soon.”

“Please do not even jest. I don't have personal experience with magic such as this, but I think they will be safe inside until I figure out a plan.” He said, gliding his hand over one of the protruding crystals. “If the records from the Order survived at all, there is a chance a few could still be relocated back to their hometowns, if not original families. I'll go and see what I can salvage tonight.”

“I'm sorry, I could have dropped you off.”

“No. No. I was thrilled you allowed me to accompany you home.” He replied, with a smile. “Even if I had to ride in the boot.”

“Remind me to put another blanket or two in the car. Or maybe get the windows tinted? ...I really hope Jim and the others travel carefully. It's still pretty early in the evening…” Barbara trailed off, concern edging back into her voice. She turned away, absently walking into the hall.

“They will be fine. Trolls have been successfully avoiding sun exposure for centuries. Once they get on the move, old habits will return.”

Barbara was quiet. Stricklander turned to watch her. She was staring at a wall, not quite tastefully adorned with numerous family photographs.

“Do… do you think it would be alright? If I kept one or two…like NotEnrique was saying?”

She had spoken so quietly. Barely breathed the words, like it was asking too much, for something blasphemous. Stricklander took a step towards her, opening his mouth to speak, but she hastily went on to explain herself.

“It's… the house is going to be so quiet now…” She said unsteadily, adjusting an ever so slightly crooked frame. A younger photo of Jim, like most of them. He was dressed in a small cap and gown. Graduating from Middle School. “Now that they're all…”

“I thought. I thought I had a few more years. After high school. Easing into it as he attended…” She gasped suddenly, pulling in on herself. She spun to face him, her eyes wide and terrified in a way he had not seen before. “He-he’ll never get to graduate! My son is a highschool dropout!!”

Stricklander huffed a small sigh of a laugh, caught between the mundanity of it and the ache inside his chest as he watched this woman, the strongest woman he had ever known, slowly breaking down before him.

“Barbara… I'm sure I could pull some strings… I may still have some influence yet... work something out…” He soothed despite knowing full well that Jim’s educational status was the least of her true concerns. As he spoke he stepped closer and put his arms around her. He smiled sadly as she pressed her hands and then cheek against his stone chest. His embrace tightened around her in response, his wings curling inward protectively. “Or, I suppose there is always G.E.D. courses…”

“Jim! My boy! My boy! I wasn't ready… I wasn't ready!” She sobbed, words catching in her throat as she utterly crumbled against him. She shuddered with each breath, now gasped between unfettered wails.

Her full weight leaned into him and when her legs buckled, he bent with her until he could hook his hand under her knees. Lifting and cradling her to him, he carried her through to the front room. Her arms slid around his neck and she buried her face into his shoulder. Hot tears pooled momentarily at his clavicle before trickinging down tiny grooves in his stone skin.

Gently seating her on the sofa, he went to his knees before her so as not to break the desperate grip she now had on him. He pressed his fanged lips against her head and lovingly stroked her soft hair with his sharp claws. All the while murmuring words of comfort in his gravelly voice.

Stricklander could slowly feel her tiring herself out. Her damp keening faded into quiet sobs, then tiny hiccups before becoming shaky sighs. He coaxed her arms from his neck, guiding her to lay down comfortably on the sofa. Last of all, his hand slid from supporting her head, wiping a stray tear from her eye. He pulled a blanket draped over the back of the sofa around her, tucking her in loosely. His arm selfishly remained around her once she was settled.

He knew she had been on the move since Jim had returned with Merlin: helping prepare for the battle, tending wounded at the hospital, working with the other parents as liaisons between the troll and human populations of Arcadia, preparing herself and Jim for his departure. She had stayed strong the whole time. But he had waited, expecting the last days to finally take their toll. She had done this before. Run herself completely ragged to help out. He wished she wouldn't, but he adored her for it.

Stricklander rest his head on the sofa, lazily watching her. Her brow knit and her breathing hitched from time to time, a worrying mind rebelling against the body’s fatigue. Whenever it looked like she might awaken, he rubbed soothingly along her back. Somewhere out of his deepest memories, came something like a lullaby. An old, wordless tune that rumbled low in his throat.

He was tired and sore as well, of course. But she came first. From this moment on, in his life, she would always come first.


End file.
